Post by AquarianM on Jul 20, 2009 at 8:14am
Welsh Hills...
The evening is raw and fallen,
The chill bone-deep upon the wind.
The stones by the solemn blue seaside are wary and drab,
Laid in a place where hearts rage in wounded silence.
There is a cold and ancient magic there,
Amid the barrows and monoliths in the Welsh hills.
It makes people sing.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/18/2009